*I look over at MC, and he's all of a half an inch away from me. This is every day, when we stand together in front of the sink, assembly-lining the process of washing produce. Or every night, when we flush into each other as we sleep, like melted butter into toast. Or every afternoon, when he effortlessly spins laughter and conversation out of me, all while motionlessly bracing a tiny piece of felt, so that I can repair one of Gbear's Blythe doll dresses. And I'm telling you, at this moment, at all of these moments, I think to myself "F*ck, I am obsessed with this dude."
*The other day, MC and I were watching a documentary about the Sengoku period in Japanese history, and he turned to say to me, with complete earnestness, "You would definitely have been a samurai."
*When we sit at a dinner table with friends or family, who giggle as he tells a funny story with enthused wit while looking effortlessly, effervescently handsome, I can only half listen to the story, because the other half of me is busy thinking how lucky I am that this guy feels the same way about me that I do about him. I'm busy thinking, downright selfishly, how proud I am, that this exuberant, creative, selfless, genius heart throb is my freaking husband.
*MC finds me the most glamorous when I'm at my most human.